By: Kristen Barbour
“There are only two types of women — goddesses and doormats.” -Pablo Picasso
we slow bloom in garden beds
stretch and twirl around skin,
but crawling vines can’t survive on fleeting fucks.
pulled like weeds,
brass marigolds tarnish
fine china white lilies break down to dust
collapsed, orchids with petals of silk, into wax
what remains rooted in soil like this?
we dispense mild violence on ourselves
then ache over this:
easy love-fantastically cruel
-that never lasts.